


Standing Stones

by Silbrith



Series: Arkham Files [9]
Category: Cthulhu Mythos - Fandom, White Collar
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24520828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbrith/pseuds/Silbrith
Summary: Ancient ruins in England acquire a sinister significance as the team attempts to thwart an alien invasion. Arkham Files story #9, a blend of White Collar and the world of the Cthulhu Mythos.
Series: Arkham Files [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/480910
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. Covert Surveillance

_Notes: Standing Stones takes place after the events in the eighth Arkham Files story, Scorpion Hill_ _._ _I've written short summaries of the previous stories for the blog I co-write with Penna:_[ _Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation_](https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/) _._ _The post is called "_[ _Inside the Arkham Files Vault_](http://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/2017/05/inside-arkham-files-vault.html) _." For a status update on the main characters, see my post: "_[ _Vault Acquisition: Standing Stones_](https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/2020/06/vault-acquisition-standing-stones.html) _."_

* * *

**Arkham, Massachusetts. Saturday, January 24, 1976.**

"I would have thought you'd sworn off trudging in the snow long ago," Henry grumbled, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "Why don't you own a car?"

"No need for one," Neal protested. "Parking spaces are limited on campus, especially now that the semester has started, and the walk to the quad from the campus parking lot is almost as long as from June's house. Besides, you're the outdoor adventurer. This should be right up your alley."

"If you had a list of my jobs, you'd notice a clear pattern—tropical locations. That's not a coincidence."

Neal sympathized with him, but snowstorms and Arkham in winter went hand in hand. Yesterday Henry had been greeted by a two-foot snowfall when he returned from an assignment in Argentina. He was entitled to grouse, but Neal wasn't about to complain about a little white stuff on the streets.

This was Henry's first official day to work with SCAGR, the name Henry had coined for their group of Scholar-Adventurer-Guardian Reprobates. He was staying in June's guest bedroom which was formerly used by Pagna Sastri. The Meropian scientist had vacated it in early January when she returned to her world's home base. Mozzie was now in charge of the instrumentation she'd left behind. His lab was their current destination.

"Think of this as your orientation tour," Neal said. "Peter and Elizabeth live four blocks away from me in a townhouse on Cedar Street. Sara's apartment is on Larchmont. If you insist on a car, I can borrow her Beetle. She asked me to look after it while she's gone."

Henry arched a suspicious eyebrow. "You never owned a car. Do you know anything about car maintenance?"

"I skipped Auto Mechanics 101, but how tough can it be?"

Henry smiled. "You better let me take it over. Generally, I prefer something racier, but I'll have that car purring like a kitten. You think she'd like it souped-up?"

"She'd probably love it," Neal admitted. "I'll gladly hand the reins over to you."

"Consider vehicle customization part of the package deal. Gideon's already placed me in charge of security and covert operations. I may need a raise."

"I don't remember him wording your duties that way."

"Close enough," Henry dismissed airily. "You could verify it with him."

"A little difficult since he's no longer on Earth." They turned off Cedar onto Trinity Avenue which led directly to the main entrance of the campus. Henry had already been introduced to Dorian's and the Sentinel Alehouse. Somehow Neal didn't think it was necessary to point out the rare bookstore. Henry had already been groaning about the amount of reading Lavinia had assigned him.

Henry shrugged. "Not my problem, but what is in my bailiwick is getting to know the members of the team. So what's up with Mozzie and Lavinia?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's obvious by the way he talks about her that he's a smitten man. Are his feelings reciprocated?"

Neal shrugged. "Who can tell what Lavinia's thinking? As for Mozzie, at first I wondered if his interest was more akin to scientific curiosity, but he swears that's not the case."

"You're the expert on Meropians. I know they're shapeshifters, but what do they really look like?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. They've never given me a clue about what their true appearance is. Zophar transformed himself to look like Montgomery Clift to mate with my mother, but if she knew what his true appearance was, she never told me. I didn't even know he was my dad till it was too late."

Henry shot him a quick glance. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Not knowing much about your heritage has gotta suck."

"After everything we've experienced together, there shouldn't be any secrets. You had worse luck. You never even met your dad. Did your mom share any stories about him?"

"Just his name and a photo which was taken at a carnival booth in Providence. But don't get me distracted. This is official SCAGR snooping business. How about Cyrus? What's the scoop on him?"

"He's head of the chemistry department. Works in Derleth Hall, the same building as Mozzie."

"Does he live there too?"

"No, Mozzie has the only apartment in the science building. It's a privilege he claimed because of the rooftop observatory. His fame as an author has brought the university so much recognition the president's not likely to deny him any request."

Henry nodded. "Got it. Anything I need, Mozzie's the facilitator. Is Cyrus hooked up with anyone?"

"He and June have been seeing each other," Neal said as they walked through the wrought-iron gate into the university quad. "That started a few months ago. They're both into cooking and we're the beneficiaries. They also have something else in common. They're the only ones who've declined algolnium. Cyrus claims it makes him a useful control for their experiments. Much of his and El's work for the team consists of working with alien chemicals."

Henry's brow wrinkled. "What are they testing? I thought they got rid of the drug Sornoth had infected you with."

"They did, but you remember the zoog you killed in Marrakesh?"

"Yeah. What happened to it?"

"It disintegrated but before it did El was able to extract its blood, and so far the sample has maintained its integrity."

Henry snorted. "Man, the stuff that comes out of your mouth. You make zombie zoogs sound like they're an everyday occurrence."

"Have weirdness, will travel, that's our world," Neal said with a shrug. "Since you signed up for SCAGR, it's now your life too. If you'd read those reference materials Lavinia provided, you'd understand it better."

Henry grunted. "I knew I was asking for that. So what do El and Cyrus plan to do with the blood?"

"They hope to eventually be able to eliminate zoogs from their human hosts. Who knows how many cult members have been infected with zoogs?"

Henry nodded thoughtfully. "And not just them. There could be innocent victims as well."

"We already have a blood sample from one victim, Martin Keller, but he was no innocent. He was the leader of the local chapter of the Starry Wisdom cult." _And the one responsible for Sara's kidnapping_. Neal still had nightmares about wandering through the streets of Arkham looking for her.

"Is there any word about the Moroccan whose house we broke into?" Henry asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Saalim Kattan? He died four days after we returned home. Supposedly a brain aneurism, but El will know for sure once she receives samples of his blood. He may have been parasitized as well."

When they entered Derleth Hall, the blast of steam heat was a welcome reprieve from the snowy conditions outside. On a Saturday, most of the students in the science building were working on lab projects. The staircase was empty of the weekday hordes, allowing him and Henry to continue their discussion. In any case, talking in murmurs had become second nature for SCAGR members. Neal tried not to think about the stack of papers waiting for him in his office. They were the results of the first week of classes. With Sara in London, they'd be his Saturday night date.

"Any news from Peter?" Henry asked.

"He's still in Marrakesh." Peter had returned to Morocco to act as consultant for the local archaeologist Hayat Boutella who would oversee the preservation and documentation of the cave they'd discovered in Scorpion Hill.

"How's he going to explain those weird drawings to the local archaeologists?"

"They'll join the ranks of other inexplicable Neolithic paintings that will make archaeologists scratch their heads for decades to come. Peter will publish a paper about them. Eventually, when there's enough documentary evidence, he'll be able to go public about the Elnath."

Henry stopped on the stairs. "You think that's really possible? He won't become a laughingstock for having written about extraterrestrials settling Earth?"

Neal smiled. "That's why he's waiting. If the evidence isn't sufficiently compelling, he'll leave it to others to speculate."

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"Neal will be sorry he wasn't here for your call," Mozzie told Sara.

"I wish I could have alerted him in advance," she said, her disappointment evident. "I know the security measures are essential, but it doesn't make them less frustrating."

"Milly and I are working on a solution," he disclosed. "We're in the final stages of testing. If it works as I hope we'll have a solution ready for you as soon as we can arrange safe transport. If it had been in place, you would have been able to join us at Dorian's last night. Neal and Henry gave an impromptu concert at the coffeehouse."

"And I missed it!" she groaned. "What did they sing?"

"A few hits by the Rolling Stones. That must be Henry's influence. No more Simon and Garfunkel for Neal, at least not when Henry's singing with him. 'Child of the Moon' was my personal favorite."

Betelgeuse had jumped up on his lap when the call started. He'd rubbed against the phone affectionately when he heard Sara through the handset. The tabby had welcomed her into his cluster of friends. Betelgeuse would enjoy the new device as much as Sara.

"Our connection's starting to go," Sara said.

"That's just Betelgeuse's purr," he assured her. "Soon you'll know for yourself when he joins the conversation."

"Won't you give me any details?"

"And spoil the surprise? You'll have to be patient just a little while longer."

She sighed. "It's just as well. I need to leave to meet my team. Tell Neal I'll call tomorrow at this same time."

When Mozzie hung up, Milly asked, "She is not content?"

"No, she misses Neal."

"Are the two in love?" she asked.

"You should ask him that," Mozzie deferred. To his mind, Neal was, but Milly was becoming a little bit too nosy for his liking. Soon she'd be asking about his feelings for Lavinia, and he wasn't about to discuss them with an alien armillary sphere. Unless . . . would it help? "Milly, what can you tell me about Meropian courtship practices?"

"That is for you and Lavinia to discuss." Was there a trace of huffiness in her voice? That would imply Milly experienced emotions. For a Celaenian construct, surely not an impossibility. Neal claimed her personality was emerging as her acquaintanceship with Mozzie grew deeper. An unsettling thought. He hoped she hadn't developed a crush on him, though it would be understandable . . . and perhaps on the intellectual plane . . . No, it likely would come to naught. And a threesome with Lavinia, tempting though it might be, could cause more complications than even he was willing to contemplate.

Mozzie left the lab to make himself a cup of tea. Lavinia had given him an exotic blend which included leaves grown on Merope. He sensed they could be an aphrodisiac. Perhaps it was a signal used among Meropians to indicate they were favorably disposed to being courted.

While he was in the kitchen, a soft chime alerted him that someone approached his office door. Mozzie fished Argos out of his pocket. He was quite proud of the device. Pagna had worked on it with him before she left for the Meropian home base. The unit was no larger than a switch plate. It was in constant communication with a concealed camera outside his door and alerted him of anyone's approach.

When he asked Lavinia if she'd like a similar monitor for her quarters, she scoffed at the notion. She claimed that the chittaks made admirable guardians, not that she'd provided any details, of course, on how they performed their role.

Mozzie opened the door to Neal and Henry before they knocked. "Welcome, fellow SCAGRs."

How'd you know it was us?" Henry demanded.

Mozzie waved Argos in front of him. "Nothing escapes my spy camera."

Neal reached down to stroke Betelgeuse. "Hello, handsome. Miss me?"

Neal had already seen the device, but Henry insisted on a demonstration. Neal obligingly stepped outside with Betelgeuse. Whether it was Neal in front of the door or Betelgeuse flopped on the floor, Argos honed in on the target with astonishing accuracy.

"You could make a mint off this," Henry commented.

"Alas, no," Mozzie said. "It operates on gravitational waves generated by a Meropian computer in the lab. The rest of the world will have to wait." He turned to Neal. "I wish you'd arrived a few minutes earlier. Sara called."

"Did something come up?" Neal asked worriedly. "This wasn't our normal schedule."

"Do you have one?" Henry asked, furrowing his brow in turn.

"She normally calls at one o'clock our time on Sunday afternoons," Neal explained. "If she's busy, she sends word through Gideon's assistant Fei Hong."

Henry grunted. "As your security expert, I'm not thrilled with the predictability of your calls."

"In this case, it makes sense," Neal said. "In the basement of Gideon's building is a martial arts studio. Sara goes there on Sunday evenings to study kung fu. Fei is also in the class. A private secure elevator in the back of the studio takes Sara directly to Gideon's private office where she places the call."

Henry's face relaxed. "Not bad. It receives my seal of approval pending personal inspection." He dropped onto Mozzie's well-worn leather couch. "Why did Sara call?"

"Her Interpol contact has a lead on the Starry Wisdom cult," Mozzie explained, lifting Betelgeuse off his favorite armchair so he could sit down. "Nisha said agents were running a sting on a possible smuggling ring operating out of London when they overheard chatter about moon-tree wine."

"That's the stuff which contains zoog embryos, isn't it?" Henry asked.

Neal nodded. "We believe it's drunk by cult leaders. An embryo matures and forms a nest inside the victim's head where it modifies the ganglia in the brain. El believes it assumes motor control of the host and is also able to influence their thought processes."

"And the zoogs come from Tirelia?"

"Yeah. If they're in London, that means there must be an active wormhole nearby." Neal turned to Mozzie. "Has Sara told her team yet?"

"No, she called to ask us how we wanted her to handle it."

"She's warned Nisha about Raquel, right?" Henry asked.

"Of course," Mozzie assured him. The events in Marrakesh proved that Raquel was working with the cult. The drug she tried to add to Neal's drink was algolnium based. It could only have been produced off-world.

"This places Sara in a difficult position," Neal said. "Since her team is investigating cults in England, this is precisely the kind of information she should share."

"But if a mole is working on the team, the information could be used against us," Henry pointed out. "What did Sara recommend?"

"That she should continue to act as our eyes and ears," Mozzie said. "She intends to gather intel for us but will only supply her team with what we want them to know."

Neal nodded absently. "If she tells them she overheard the chatter without mentioning Nisha, that would keep Interpol out of it. The greater problem is keeping Sara safe. She's probably already plotting a way to infiltrate the gang."

"Why do you say that?" Henry asked.

"She did the same thing in Arkham last autumn," Neal explained. "She wound up being kidnapped by the cult. We were barely able to rescue her in time. They were about to force her to drink moon-tree wine."

"Sara has no business going undercover," Henry declared. "After that incident, she has to be known to the cult. For all we know, Chad could be in London, too."

Mozzie winced at the mention of Chad's name. That bully had been a curse on Neal's life since foster home days. It still rankled that Mozzie hadn't recognized the signs of abuse earlier.

"What you need is someone who's an unknown." Henry grinned and pointed to himself. "That's me. Consider me your x-factor."

When Neal didn't immediately take him up on the offer, he added, "This is why you wanted me on the team . . . besides giving you guys a name, that is. This is exactly the type of assignment I thrive at."

Neal hesitated then nodded. "All right. I'll ask Marjorie to teach my seminars. I'll give her—"

"—You misunderstood me," Henry said, interrupting him. "This is a solo job. There's no need for you to go too. I can get all the background information I need from Sara. Once I find out what's going on, then we'll regroup."

"I don't like it," Neal objected. "Simply communicating in a secure manner will be a challenge. We'll need to arrange a schedule first with Fei Hong."

"That won't be necessary," Mozzie assured him. His moment of triumph had arrived. "Henry will be able to talk with us as if he were in the same room." A slight pause for dramatic effect was surely in order. If only it wasn't so early, he'd break out the champagne. "He'll also be able to see us."

"What are you talking about?" Neal asked.

Henry's eyes widened. "You've perfected wormhole technology!"

Mozzie frowned. "That will take more time. This, on the other hand, is ready to go." He retrieved two of the devices from his desk drawer and passed them to the boys. "You'll be here for the final test which I assume it will pass with flying colors."

"What is this? A cigarette case?" Henry rotated the case in his hands. Mozzie had selected a weather-beaten gunmetal gray metal for the enclosure.

"It resembles Argos," Neal said, pressing the release button to open the case.

"This is a visual communicator," Mozzie said proudly. "I call it a com-link. Milly and I've been working on it for the past few weeks. The com-link enables us to conduct secure conversations anywhere in the world. It's powered by wave technology. I've registered the harmonics for all the members of SCAGR. We can call any of our associates with it."

"What do you mean by harmonics?" Henry asked.

Mozzie gave him a break. He was, after all, still a new recruit. "If you'd read the materials Lavinia prepared for you, you'd know that every individual, indeed each organic object, has a unique harmonic wave pattern. Call it a magnetic wave resonance if that makes more sense to you. It's the basis of much of Meropian technology."

Neal was already fiddling with the dials. "How do you turn it on?"

"Press the top red button." Mozzie demonstrated with his link. The device responded with a soft amber glow on the display screen. "Then say the name of the person you want to speak with. It's been programmed for us, Lavinia, Peter, El, Cyrus, June, Sara, and Fei Hong. It goes without saying that you can also contact Milly at any time."

Henry frowned. "I know Fei Hong is Gideon's assistant. How much does she know about SCAGR?"

"She's also a Meropian," Neal explained. "Gideon revealed her status when he returned to his home base. He warned us he may not be back for several months. Fei funds our expenses and makes travel arrangements. She's completely trustworthy."

"Will she provide assistance for less than legal activities?" Henry challenged.

"Like what?" Neal asked.

Henry shrugged. "Standard stuff—forged passports and IDs, surveillance equipment. Do you want me to go on?"

Neal exhaled. "Gideon said she's here to assist us. I expect that includes anything you need."

If only Mozzie had known Fei during his anti-war protest phase, life would have been so much simpler. He really did need to forge closer ties with her.

"If you have any other questions, you can ask them of Lavinia," Mozzie said and spoke her name into the link.

Lavinia's image appeared on the screen a few seconds later. "Are you ready to begin the test?" she asked, her voice as clear as if she were sitting next to him. Mozzie felt a glow of pride that it was working so well. Neal and Henry's eyes were riveted to the screen.

"Yes, please point the link at different objects of varying distances," Mozzie requested.

She first moved the link toward her shoulder.

"That's Ch'uli!" Henry exclaimed. "I can see her now."

"Actually, it's her mate, Ch'orri," Neal explained. "He has a green mask."

"This is Ch'uli," Lavinia said, directing the link to the tapestry-covered table in her office where Ch'uli was munching on a chocolate-chip cookie.

Neal laughed. "I recognize that container. June must have sent over a care package."

"She did indeed," Lavinia confirmed. "And that was fortunate. She's spoiled the chittaks. Store-bought cookies are no longer up to their standards."

The experiment was a complete success. The link was also able to display with excellent clarity objects as far as twenty feet away. "Henry can deliver Sara and Fei's links when he goes to London," Mozzie said. "Neal, you'll be able to talk with them as often as you like."

**Two weeks later. Gilman Townhouse.**

Peter looked up from his stack of correspondence when he heard the door open. Satchmo was already racing into the kitchen, and he was right behind the Lab. Peter had brought his work home in the hopes that El would be there, but patient rounds had kept her at the hospital. Although he'd returned home from Morocco close to two weeks ago, their schedules made together time a scarce commodity.

"Sorry I'm late," El said, shrugging off her coat. "A stroke victim was admitted just as I was getting ready to leave. I stayed till her condition had stabilized."

"Are you still on call?"

"No, thank goodness for efficient assistants. Vijay is there. Have you eaten?"

"Not yet. I was waiting for you. Would you like to go out to dinner?"

"Let's stay home. We have leftover beef stew in the fridge."

"I received a letter from a colleague in England," Peter said, retrieving the container from the refrigerator. "You remember I'd sent inquiries about starfish designs in Neolithic artifacts."

El nodded as she placed a pan on the stove. "Did they find something?"

"An artifact was found in a riverbed near Avebury. Frank—that's the name of the archaeologist—wasn't sure what to make of it. The piece was shaped like a starfish and carved from soapstone." He paused at El's exclamation and chuckled. "That was exactly my reaction. And not only that. There are marks on the starfish which, based on the description, sound like they're Elnath script."

"Did he send you a photo?"

"Not yet, but I've asked him to." He paused for a moment. "I'm also thinking of going over there. Avebury is the site of barrows dating back to the Neolithic period."

"You think it's possible there's an Elnath cave in the region."

"I do, but I'm just back from a trip. I hate to leave you again so soon. Is there any chance you could go along?"

El shook her head. "Between my patients and the classes I'm teaching, I don't see how I could. But that shouldn't stop you. This is exactly why you have a light course load this semester."

Peter winced. "I'm more of a guest lecturer this term. Thankfully, Eleanor had already prepared for the fact I wouldn't be around much. She actually seemed rather miffed when I returned from Marrakesh earlier than expected." Eleanor had become his lifesaver. As head of the department, she was a far more experienced teacher than he was. His students wouldn't suffer under her guidance.

"The entire archaeology department is benefitting from your discoveries," El consoled him. "Just wait till your paper about the Scorpion Hill cave is published. Your colleagues will be demanding you spend even more time in the field."

He groaned. "Don't wish that on me. We don't see each other enough as it is."

"At least now we'll be able to talk with each other thanks to Mozzie's com-links."

"Prepare yourself for a lot of calls," he warned, "but I'll keep the difference in time zones in mind and try not to wake you up." Privately, Peter was relieved El didn't want to go. She didn't need any additions to an already demanding workload. "You promise to take care of yourself while I'm gone?"

She raised her eyebrows. "And get enough rest? That goes for you too, hon. As well as your assurance to avoid any unplanned intergalactic excursions through wormholes."

"Duly noted. Another excellent reason for frequent calls."

"How long will you be gone?" she asked.

"I'm calling this an exploratory trip. I hope to restrict it to a week in length."

"Will Neal go with you?"

He nodded. "I'll need his help to decipher the script. Plus his algolnium-sniffing ability is essential. Until Cyrus succeeds in building an instrument capable of detecting algolnium, Neal's all we got." He smiled ruefully. "If I can tear him away from London, that is. I stopped by his office to tell him. He can't wait to see Sara and Henry in person."

"Is there any news from Henry?"

"He's established himself as an auto mechanic and has made friends at the pub where the cult chatter took place. Henry's targeted one person who appears to be a member and is hoping to receive an invitation to join. Sara hasn't heard anything more from her Interpol contact. Is it wrong for me to wish that remains the case?"

"So she won't be in danger?"

Peter nodded. "That and so Neal won't have any additional reason to feel torn. As it is, even the lure of the Elnath may not be able to compete with Sara's appeal."

She smiled. "I know I can count on you to let them have some time alone. How about Mozzie? Will he go too?"

"I checked with him, but he wants to stay to monitor the communications. This will be the first long-distance field exercise for the com-links. If there are any issues, he believes he and Milly will be able to make the necessary adjustments. He also muttered something about a project with Lavinia."

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Mozzie hesitated before knocking on Lavinia's door. He had absolutely no need to feel nervous. Although . . . perhaps it would have been better to have dispatched Neal first. The boy was part Meropian. He had every right to inquire about Meropian intimacy practices. Lavinia was fascination personified but hers was a prickly beauty. Would she misunderstand Mozzie's intentions?

He raised his hand then dropped it again. Did Neal even need to be present to provide the solution? If his behavior had changed or if he was showing unusual symptoms, Mozzie would have every right to be concerned. It would be only natural to assume that Meropian hormones were the culprit. Yes, the perfect opening.

Now to invent some symptoms. Nothing too radical. Perhaps a trifle too much blood flow to his—

"Are you going to stand outside my door all evening?" Lavinia barked, opening the door. Ch'uli was on her shoulder eyeing his package curiously. She must think cookies were inside.

Confound it, he should have realized the chittaks would alert her. Still, there was no need to panic. He'd already determined his strategy.

"A new tea shop opened in town," he said calmly, hiding any trace of nerves. "The owner impressed me with the depth of her knowledge. She has a remarkable selection of Asian teas. I thought you might like to join me in sampling one." He realized some might construe his words as babbling and waved the package enticingly while taking a breath. "This is a rare form of Oolong. It's grown at only one plantation in the Wuyi Mountains."

"This was thoughtful of you," she said, taking the package. "Another time perhaps. Your arrival is fortuitous. There's a matter of great urgency we should discuss."

When he saw the stack of books on her table, he realized it wouldn't be the topic he'd selected. He took a seat and waited to be enlightened.

"It's something I've long wanted to bring up but the moment never seemed appropriate," she said, sitting down across from him at the table.

Was there hope after all? A covert signal would be helpful. If only a copy of Masters and Johnson's famous tome was in the stack of books . . . Perhaps a gentle nudge. "I've felt the same way," he murmured.

Her face softened. "Of course you have. A man of your perspicacity would have recognized the need to proceed post-haste with exploration of the time vortex."

His jaw dropped. "Time travel?" Curse his voice for squeaking. Romance would have to wait.

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Neal and Peter arrived in London early on Monday morning. Once they'd cleared customs, they headed off in opposite directions. Peter rented a car to drive to Avebury while Neal took a cab to his hotel in the city. The next day, he'd take the train to meet Peter at the dig, but until then he was free to reconnect with Sara and Henry. Neal had picked an inexpensive hotel not far from the Tower of London. It was close to where Sara worked and an easy trip on the tube for Henry from where he was staying in Southwark.

Henry had been in London for close to two weeks. Thanks to the com-link, Neal was able to receive daily bulletins from him and Sara. Much as he would have liked to have accompanied Henry, Neal had to admit he was ill-suited for the type of work Henry was performing. Hanging out in pubs, playing pool, chatting up the locals—Henry appeared to thrive on it but Neal would have been a fish out of water.

The com-links worked flawlessly. Henry could even let him know when he arrived at the hotel so that when Neal heard a knock on the door, he knew who it was.

"Hey, kiddo," Henry said as he breezed in. "Ritzy address you fixed yourself up with." He dropped into an armchair and scanned the simple hotel room. "You even got a telly."

"Just what kind of dive are you staying in?" Neal asked.

"You don't want the details. Its only selling point is that it's convenient, but the place suits my profile. Fei made the arrangements for me to be affiliated with a garage in the vicinity, so if anyone checks my cover story, it's legit."

"Have you actually been working as a mechanic?" Neal asked.

He shrugged. "I've been a grease monkey before, and it's paying off. My mate George has invited me to an introductory meeting at the Church as he calls it."

"By that you mean the cult of Starry Wisdom?"

Henry smiled contentedly. "The one and only. They're preparing for some gathering near Marlborough next weekend. I've expressed an interest in participating, and George has offered to take me along. First, though, I'll need to go through an initiation ritual."

"Don't drink anything," Neal cautioned. "It could be moon-tree wine."

"Don't worry. I'll stay far away from the stuff."

"Peter and I witnessed an initiation ceremony last fall. The priest made the initiates stick a finger inside a wooden box that contained a zoog. The zoog punctured their fingers with its fangs. The members were rounded up when we rescued Sara, and they didn't appear to suffer any harmful effects but we can't be positive."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll think up some excuse. I have no desire to be gnawed on by a zoog. But the meeting's not the reason I wanted to see you."

Neal's link buzzed before Henry could explain. When Neal opened the case, Sara's face appeared in the display.

She cut off his greeting, speaking in an urgent whisper. "I've retreated to the loo to call you. A police report just came in. Nisha's body was found in an alley this morning. The police think she was killed sometime during the night and are calling it a mugging, but I think the cult's responsible."

Henry darted over to stand next to Neal. "Do you have any tangible evidence to back up your suspicion?"

"No, but Nisha had been asking around about Raquel. I'm afraid the cult found out about it."

"They could be following you too," Henry warned. "Is Nigel working in the office today?"

"Yes, why?"

"How long can you stay in the loo?"

Sara held her hand to her forehead. "I'm suddenly feeling quite faint. I may need to be here a while to recover. Do you have news?"

Instead of answering her, Henry pulled out his link. "Let me check if Peter's available. You all need to hear this."

Peter was in his hotel room at Avebury when Henry contacted him. By using all four of their links, they were having SCAGR's first conference call.

"First of all, you should know that when I arrived in London, I placed wiretaps on the private phones of Sara's team members," Henry said.

"You did what?" Peter demanded, looking shocked.

Henry shrugged. "I make no apologies. It was a necessary precaution. Sara's team's researching the cult. It's the perfect setup for a mole to find out what they know."

"Peter, you haven't heard," Neal interjected. "Sara's contact at Interpol was murdered sometime during the night. Henry's activities are fully justified. "

Peter frowned. "And highly illegal. If you're caught—"

"—I won't be," Henry dismissed. "This is not my first time around the block. And wait till you hear about the conversation I recorded between Nigel and Raquel."

"Nigel, meaning Sara's boss?" Neal asked, stunned.

"Yep, that Nigel. Turns out he's not only Sara's boss. He's Raquel's as well."

* * *

_Notes: Thanks for reading and welcome back to Arkham! If this is your first visit, you may wish to check out the resources on the_ [ _Arkham Files_ ](https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/p/arkham-files.html) _page of our blog._ _Standing Stones has 3 chapters which I'll post weekly on Wednesday._

_Readers have known about Nigel for a while but Neal and Peter haven't been clued in. They're in for a greater shock in next week's chapter as details about an enemy invasion are uncovered._

_Introduction to Arkham Files for new readers: FBI Agent Diana Berrigan began writing Arkham Files fics as part of a strategy to capture a cybercriminal nicknamed Azathoth. She is now sharing writing duties with Mozzie. Most of the characters are drawn from the world of White Collar and retain their same given names. Events and characters in Arkham Files are sometimes referenced in the Caffrey Conversation stories and have an impact on plot development._

_Penna Nomen created the Caffrey Conversation AU and is the head muse for our series. The characters and I are very lucky to have had her beta help for this story. Penna and I went on a virtual retreat recently, and she wrote about the experience for our blog. The post is called "[Writing Retreat: 2020](https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/2020/06/writing-retreat-2020.html)." Such a pleasure to brainstorm ideas for future stories with her! _

_Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation: _ [ _pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com_ ](http://www.pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com)  
_Visuals and Music: The Standing Stones board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website:_ [ _pinterest.com/caffreycon_ ](https://www.pinterest.com/caffreycon/) _  
_ _Twitter:_ [ _@silbrith_ ](https://twitter.com/silbrith)


	2. Avebury

**Neal's hotel room, London. Monday, February 9, 1976.**

Neal scanned Sara's face anxiously. How distressed would she be to discover that her boss was in league with the cult? When he saw her look of triumph, he breathed easier.

"So that's why he was hitting on me!" she exclaimed. Her efforts to keep her voice a whisper through the com-link were fraying badly. "I just assumed he thought I was a naïve American. Hah!"

"What exactly did Nigel do?" Neal demanded, his outrage transcending whatever other news Henry had to relate. He'd disliked everything he heard about the man ever since Sara started working for him, but he'd attributed his feelings to jealousy and had kept quiet. Big mistake.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Sara said quickly. "And I never shared anything about SCAGR with him."

"I know you didn't," Neal assured her even as his mind was filled with scenes of Sara fighting off his advances. How aggressive had the brute been?

Peter cleared his throat. "Let Henry continue then we'll get Sara's perspective."

Henry gave Neal a commiserative wince. Perhaps it was just as well the others weren't in the room, but they could still see his face. He and Henry were sitting side by side on the small couch in his hotel room. Sara was connected to Neal's com-link, and Peter was linked with Henry. Since Neal and Henry had their links side by side, the others would be able to see both of them on the monitors.

"Sara, you had a narrow escape," Henry said bluntly. "When I retrieved the tape this morning, I found a conversation between Nigel and Raquel which had been recorded on the previous day. From the sound of it, Nigel's the ringleader of the cult."

"He's the head priest?" Sara asked, her eyes widening.

"Worse than that. He appears to be an emissary from Azathoth. Is that even possible?"

"We've feared as much," Peter said. "The Meropians suspected Tirelians could have the ability to enter a wormhole just as we did to travel to their planet. What makes you think Nigel's from Tirelia?"

"He talked about how they'd soon be able to travel back and forth from their homeworld freely. He also told Raquel that Azathoth instructed him to begin infiltrating the British cabinet by infecting key members with zoogs. Raquel asked how they'd be able to accomplish it. Supposedly their supply of crystals has diminished to the point they don't have enough to create wormholes."

"No wormholes means no zoogs or the wine they bring," Sara said. "That's excellent news for us."

"It would be," Henry agreed, "except that Azathoth has planned a workaround. The two of them talked about a coming invasion. They're using one of the last, if not the last crystal to create a wormhole to receive a massive influx of zoogs. The shipment will include moon-tree saplings so that a colony can be established on Earth."

"Meaning the cult could infect however many humans they wanted," Peter said, his face somber.

"Just about," Henry agreed. "There are a few limitations. I gathered the zoogs have a relatively short lifespan when they live inside a brain. Moon-tree wine helps sustain them but even so they may only live a year or so. All bets are off, though, if zoogs can be established on Earth."

"Could Nigel be infected with a zoog?" Sara asked.

"It didn't sound that way," Henry said. "He and Raquel were talking about the cults as if they were manipulating them."

"Nigel could be the person I heard Azathoth communicate with in his fortress on Kadath," Neal said. "He spoke with a British accent. Sara, do you know how long he's been at the newspaper?"

"Eight years. Some around the paper call him a wunderkind for his meteoric rise. This could explain why. He's algolnium-propelled," she added bitterly.

"Did they give an indication of date or location for the invasion?" Peter asked.

"No specifics, but it must be soon," Henry said. "Raquel will be present. She's flying in from Paris on Thursday. The delivery could be connected with the gathering I heard about at the pub. I'm to be initiated on Tuesday in advance of a major event on Saturday. I don't know the exact location but it's supposedly near Marlborough."

"That's not far from where I am," Peter said. "Neal, you're still coming to Avebury, right?"

Neal hesitated, torn between wanting to help out in London and assisting Peter. He didn't like the idea of Henry being initiated although there wouldn't be much he could do to protect him.

"He'll be there," Henry said firmly. "We shouldn't take any chances of Neal being spotted with me."

"The same goes for me," Sara said. "I'll try to discover more about their plans. Neal, you and Peter didn't conceal your itinerary. You better stick to it."

"If anyone was following me, they would have seen me at the rare bookstores," Neal said. Henry had suggested the ruse in case anyone was following him. His caution was warranted.

"I know no one was tailing me when I came here," Henry said, "but we can't take any more chances."

Not if they wanted to prevent a zoog invasion. Neal remembered all too well the onslaught of hundreds of the tentacle-snouted creatures when he and Peter had been transported into a tower in the northern expanses of Tirelia. They'd been able to escape back through the wormhole before being bitten. This time there were no bolt-holes.

"Nigel called this was a workaround," Peter said. "Did they give any indication of their long-term objective?"

"Yep, and brace yourself. Azathoth's conserving the remaining crystals to use for time travel."

Neal took a breath. "Lavinia feared that would be the case. Nigel's confirming it."

Henry nodded. "Elnath scientists are being employed to track down crystals from the past. I gather these aren't your standard ruby crystals but come in a range of colors and capabilities. If Azathoth can acquire them, he believes he can modify his machinery to permit an Ymar incursion onto Earth."

Zoogs suddenly seemed like small fry when compared with the looming Armageddon. Milly had told Neal he could seal wormholes simply by linking with the algolnium energy flowing out of the rift, but he hadn't had a chance to test the theory. It looked like he might get that chance. 

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

The next day, Peter picked Neal up at the railway station in Chippenham. The historic market town was near Avebury. It was a blustery day in Wiltshire but the sun helped to dispel the chill. Both of them had brought along parkas in the expectation they'd be spending much of their time outside.

"You have it in your tool bag, don't you?" Neal asked immediately upon greeting him.

"You can tell already?" Peter had persuaded his colleague to loan him the starfish, not expecting that it contained algolnium. This could indicate a source for the precious element somewhere in the vicinity.

"This starfish appears to be a stronger source than the specimen you acquired in Egypt," Neal confirmed. "Are there any soapstone quarries near here?"

"None to my knowledge but there are for other stones. Perhaps in Neolithic times, one existed that is now exhausted."

"We've yet to find any natural deposits of algolnium. If this artifact was made from local materials, it could give us our first source."

Peter studied Neal for any sign of shakiness. "It's not making you dizzy?"

"No, but the air feels electrified. If I touch you, I'll probably set off sparks. Can you sense it?"

Peter paused, searching for any disorientation. He'd hoped the presence of algolnium in his body would allow him to detect the rare element as well, but so far he wasn't showing any signs. "No, for now you're the only algolnium-sniffer we've got. Let's wait to examine the artifact till we're in a secure location."

Neal raised an eyebrow, surveying the peaceful platform. He'd been the only one to get off the train at Chippenham. Aside from rush-hour commuters, few used the service.

Was Peter guilty of going overboard on security precautions? If Neal had asked him what he was worried about, Peter wouldn't have known how to answer. It wasn't that he thought zoogs were lurking under the platform, but he'd been on edge ever since Henry's report.

This wasn't the first time Neal had said he felt sparks. Although he didn't look any different, his abilities were growing. Those visions he'd had about Abydos had been an early signal. During the encounter with the scorpion in the Moroccan cave, Neal's skin appeared to glow. Fortunately, the effects seemed limited to the occasions when he was in contact with a strong source of algolnium, and there were no signs of any lasting side effects. But would that continue to be the case?

Peter retrieved the starfish from the bag once they were inside the Range Rover he'd rented in London. In size and composition, the soapstone artifact looked remarkably similar to the one he'd found in Egypt. And that was a puzzle in itself. Had there been a Neolithic trade route between Egypt and England or had the Elnath established separate colonies throughout the hemisphere? Just how far-ranging had the Elnath settlements been?

The roughly five-inch wide sculpture was carved out of mottled gray soapstone. Three of its arms were still intact. They had the distinctive curled tadpole-tail tips Peter had learned to associate with the Elnath.

"The inscription reads _From the stars to the depths of the ocean we set our seed_ ," Neal said as he studied the characters. "That doesn't sound like a prayer to Azathoth such as was found on the starfish found at crime scenes in Arkham. This sculpture may predate the Ymar. Perhaps it was made by the Elnath themselves."

"It will be difficult to prove," Peter pointed out. "Unless there are traces of carbon in the soapstone, dating will be impossible."

After dropping off Neal's suitcase at the hotel in Marlborough, they set off to explore the Neolithic sites in the Avebury complex. When the ancient stone circle yielded no results, Peter rested his hopes on the long barrow in West Kennet. The chambered tomb had been in use for roughly a thousand years beginning in the fourth millennium BC. Although archaeologists had thoroughly explored the hundred-meter long barrow and associated side tombs, perhaps Neal could discover a hidden entrance to an Elnath cave similar to the one present in Scorpion Hill.

"I've never visited a barrow before," Neal said when they stood outside the large stone slabs which made up the entrance. "It makes me feel a little like Frodo in _The Lord of the Rings._ You're sure there aren't any barrow-wights lurking inside?"

"I promise," Peter said confidently. Although . . . he wished Neal hadn't brought them up. Surely Tolkien didn't have any inside scoop on minions of Azathoth?

Neal didn't sense any unusual energy fluctuations at the entrance but it didn't take long to find them.

"I'm feeling something," he said excitedly after having walked a few paces inside. "It's stronger even than at Scorpion Hill."

"It must be," Peter said, attempting to keep his voice calm, "because you're glowing again."

"I am?" Neal held up his hands which were now surrounded by a faint viridian aura. His face grew troubled as he watched the effect grow stronger.

"You better check your amulet," Peter advised. "If there are ghasts around, I want to know about them."

Neal winced. "I hope you're not implying that I'm turning into a gigantic amulet."

"Of course not, but a little caution is in order. You were the one who brought up barrow-wights."

"Good thing I didn't mention balrogs," Neal muttered as he reached inside his turtleneck. When he pulled out the amulet, the disk was a comforting dull verdigris. "Satisfied?"

"For the moment, but look at the central gemstone. The celaenite is glowing just like at Scorpion Hill."

Neal's brow wrinkled as he examined the disk. "So I'm like the amulet after all?"

"Not exactly," Peter hedged. "It's not glowing as brightly as you are." As unsettling as he found it, he didn't want Neal to freak out. It wasn't like there was anything he could do about it. "Now that we've ascertained the glow isn't caused by ghasts, algolnium is left as the most likely culprit."

"And a lot of it." Neal pressed his hand to the stone wall. "I can feel it. It's similar to the small electric charge you generate from walking over a carpet in winter."

Peter touched the wall but couldn't detect anything. But then he wasn't the one glowing. Fortunately, Neal seemed to be able to control whatever discomfort he was feeling about the radiation. Peter had seen him do the same thing before—bottle up his unease till the immediate crisis was over then it would hit him like a sledgehammer.

Neal had started off the dark passageway into the barrow. Peter had brought a flashlight to use but he didn't need it with Neal the firefly to lead the way. As Neal walked, his pace quickened and soon Peter was jogging to catch up.

"This is the source," Neal said, sniffing the air.

"What do you smell?" Peter asked.

"Mushrooms." He sniffed again. "And seaweed."

"A link to the Elnath? We've speculated they were originally an aquatic species."

Neal pressed his hand onto the slab, but there was no sign of an opening, nothing resembling a shimmer. Slowly he began passing his hand over the surface of the wall.

"I see something!" Peter exclaimed. "Is that Elnath script?"

Neal nodded, taking a breath. The script was now burning brightly in brilliant yellow marks. " _Gateway to the stars_ is the translation." Neal pressed on the text, and an opening in the wall appeared as if by magic. "We found our cave!" he exclaimed.

They strode through the entrance into a cave dimly lit by bioluminescent stalactites and mushrooms. A small pool lay in the center with the same distinctive clam shells they'd found at Scorpion Hill. When Neal stood near the pool, the glow he cast grew even more brilliant. The cave appeared to reflect his luminescence, making the walls come alive with color. Peter could distinguish ferns growing in outcrops.

"Look!" Neal pointed to the edge of the pond. "Two more starfish!"

Peter's heart beat faster at the sight of two carvings with all their arms intact. "What do the inscriptions say?"

Neal crouched beside them. "The same as the starfish the archaeologist lent you: _From the stars to the depths of the ocean we set our seed_."

Peter carefully picked up the starfish and wrapped them in protective paper before placing them in his bag. They then searched among the clam shells for any crystals. Only one contained a prize, but it was a beauty—a magnificent rose-colored specimen that reminded Peter of a pink sapphire he'd seen in a museum.

"I wonder how deep the pool is," Peter said. It was oval in shape and about fifteen feet long by twelve feet wide.

"I'll find out," Neal said and began untying his shoes.

Peter groaned. "You're not wading into the water. That's an order."

"Relax. The water samples we took from the pond in the Scorpion Hill cave showed that it was ordinary water. This is likely the same." Neal rolled up his jeans and stepped cautiously into the water.

Peter stripped off his shoes and followed him, ready to haul him out if anything unexpected happened. So much for trying to order a firefly. Even if Neal weren't glowing, he would have probably ignored him. Hard to protest when Neal could rightfully argue that he was in command.

The mind boggled at what could lurk under the surface. Vicious crabs, tentacled monsters . . . Neal had worried about barrow-wights. Wasn't he concerned about the Watcher in the Water lurking outside Moria?

And, okay, all Neal found were a few aquatic snails. This time.

Neal was only able to explore a couple of feet, before he encountered a steep drop-off. He gingerly felt the edge with his foot while Peter kept a firm hold on his upper arm. "The wall seems almost perpendicular," he said at last. "Perhaps this isn't so much a pool as a well."

"It could connect to an aquifer which feeds into springs. That would explain how the water is replenished and stays fresh."

Neal nodded. "And also how the starfish was found miles away. It might have drifted into the well and then dropped into the aquifer."

Fragments of pottery were scattered about. A few displayed incised designs reminiscent of grooved pottery from the Middle Neolithic.

"What do you make of this?" Neal asked, showing him a potsherd larger than most. It was inscribed with an unusual design consisting of three arms extending from a central disk.

"Perhaps a representation of a starfish?" Peter's doubts registered in his voice. "But many factors point against it. Each arm is curved differently, with the top one having the shape of a question mark."

"And the bottom two remind me of a runner's legs. Perhaps it represents a figure in motion?"

"It could even be a fertility symbol. The type of pottery appears to be the same as the other sherds." Peter carefully wrapped the specimen in cotton wool before placing it in his case, inwardly grumbling at the frustrating aspects of their mission. He would be unable to attribute the provenance since the cave would remain shut off to anyone not possessing algolnium. The artifacts along with his notes would have to be stored in the library vault, unavailable for review by other scientists.

"Let's call El and share the news," Peter suggested, swallowing down his disappointment. "This will give us a chance to test the link and see if it works within an Elnath cave. It's midmorning in Arkham. Unless her schedule changed, she's working with Cyrus in his lab. You should use your link to connect with Mozzie. We'll have a conference call." He had an ulterior motive. He wanted El to see for herself the extent to which Neal was glowing. By now Peter was used to it, and it didn't appear to cause Neal any difficulty, but El would likely insist on further tests being run when they returned home. Peter braced himself to hear Neal's inevitable complaints about returning to lab rat status. If he didn't want to be subjected to scrutiny, he should stop glowing.

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

When El saw Neal, she was glad Mozzie and Milly were also using the com-link. She was speechless, and Lavinia and Cyrus who were in the lab with her appeared to be equally flabbergasted. Peter joked about him being a firefly and there was a definite similarity. Neal's aura was greenish-blue in color, a close match to his amulet.

"Do you feel any different?" El asked.

"A little," Neal admitted. "My fingers tingle as if from static electricity."

"What you sense is algolnium energy," Milly said. The calm voice of the Celaenian construct reminded El of the tone she used with patients. "You will eventually learn how to tap into it. The fact that you're displaying such a reaction indicates that the force lines from the etheric plane are powerful in that region."

"Milly, are you aware of any health issue associated with the glow?" El asked.

"I do not sense any harm being caused to his physiognomy," the armillary sphere reported. "And there is no health risk to anyone else. The effect is only apparent to those who have algolnium in their body chemistry."

Lavinia turned to Cyrus. "Then you can't see the glow?" This was yet another reason why El was glad Cyrus had declined algolnium. At this point, he and June were the only control cases they had.

"No," he confirmed, "and that's a relief. We don't want Neal to provoke rumors of glowing green men being spotted in Wiltshire."

Neal winced. "Any ideas on how long the effect will last?"

"The glow should diminish when you're not as close to the force lines," Milly said.

Lavinia didn't comment. El suspected it was because no Meropian had undergone anything similar. The Celaenian components within Neal were likely responsible for the luminescence.

"Does prolonged exposure to the source pose a health risk to Neal?" Peter asked.

"None that I'm aware of but since he's a new life form, I'm unable to state conclusively that is the case."

Neal exhaled grumpily. "I know what's waiting for me back in Arkham. Let's table the discussion till then. I'm not leaving England till we've ensured the zoog invasion doesn't take place. If a wormhole opens up, I'll have the best chance of closing it."

Peter clamped his lips shut. El knew how hard it was for him that Neal would have to bear the brunt of the responsibility.

"Besides," Neal continued, turning to Peter. "Don't you want to continue exploring the site?"

The tenseness in Peter's expression eased a little. "You got me there. Those potsherds indicate the likelihood of a connection between Elnath and Neolithic settlements. Did the barrow-builders know about the cave? We'd assumed the Elnath were wiped out by the Ymar but we're finding traces of them in various Neolithic sites. It's possible that earlier Elnath structures existed and are now covered over by the barrow. There may have been carvings which later settlers mistook for gods."

As Peter talked about the possibility of uncovering Elnath artifacts, his excitement was infectious. El related it to the way she'd feel if she could make a breakthrough in treating strokes. Peter's specialty was the Neolithic. The artifacts he was finding would someday rewrite the history books. He was already in demand as a lecturer about the discoveries in Lyon and Scorpion Hill. For now, he was forced to limit himself to describing the designs while tamping down speculation about what they depicted.

Neal was likely experiencing the same frustration. He'd decoded the Elnath's tadpole script but was unable to publish an article since he couldn't give a satisfactory explanation of how he'd been able to decrypt the language.

"Any news at your end?" Neal asked.

"Only the disappointing kind," Cyrus said. He pulled up a lab stool and sat down next to El. "I received a reply from the International Union of Pure and Applied Chemistry. They rejected my application for algolnium to be recognized as an element. They insist the sample is an unusual isotope of osmium." He snorted his displeasure. "It appears our scientific institutions aren't ready to accept the reality in front of their noses."

El could personally testify to the resistance of the scientific community. The reports of zoog activity, even when made by Diana Bristow of the Arkham police force, had been discounted. The few who believed the detective's description were convinced that something in the environment had caused rats to mutate. The cases of cervical abnormalities that El had documented were likewise attributed to environmental factors. Nuclear radiation appeared to be the universal answer to anything that couldn't otherwise be explained.

When the call ended, Cyrus made no move to stand up. He had a troubled look on his face that El associated with an experiment not yielding the expected result.

"What concerns you?" Lavinia asked him before El had a chance to. The Meropian's sharp eyes didn't miss much.

"I didn't want to mention it during the call because there was no reason to alarm them unnecessarily, but it's Neal."

"I thought you couldn't detect his aura," El asked, puzzled.

"And I couldn't, but I noticed something else. The effect was subtle. At first I thought I was imagining it or that it was a spurious phenomenon caused by the link." Cyrus made a face. "I need to use this gadget more. There's a relatively high probability that I was mistaken."

"Just tell us what you saw," Lavinia huffed impatiently.

"Towards the end of the call when they were talking about the Neolithic sites, Peter and Neal were standing next to each other and we could see both of them in the display. Neal's image appeared translucent for a few seconds." He looked at El. "Did you notice anything?"

"No, but I confess I was distracted by the possible repercussions to both of them from being so close to the energy field. I wish we could bring them both back for testing."

"That will have to wait," Lavinia said adamantly in a tone that closed the door on further discussion. "Our priority has to be sealing the wormhole. Zoogs cannot be allowed to establish a colony on Earth. When Gideon heard Henry's report, he assigned a team to survey Merope. Up to now, there haven't been any zoogs present on our planet, but the Ymar may be attempting to introduce them there as well."

Lavinia's words reminded El that she needed to consider the bigger picture. Earth wasn't the only planet at risk from the Ymar. The work to develop a method to safely eliminate a zoog from its host had acquired a new urgency. She could see the realization in Cyrus's face as well. With only a few blood and tissue samples on hand, for now they were attempting to develop a blood test to determine if someone had been infected. If they could make a diagnosis at a sufficiently early stage, it might be possible to eliminate the parasite before significant damage was done.

When Cyrus left to teach a class, El decided to stay to continue the experiments. This was her only day free from hospital duties. With Peter away, she intended to work through the evening.

Lavinia stood up. "I should return to the library, but before I do, I'd like your permission to run some tests."

El was puzzled by the request. It had been her experience that Lavinia didn't normally ask for clearance. "What kind of test?"

"On you."

"Why would you want to do that?" El said, jumping up from her lab stool.

"Sit down," Lavinia ordered peremptorily. "Neal and Peter aren't the only ones who need to be monitored. You're the first human female to be injected with algolnium. As you no doubt recall, I was concerned about the correct dosage amount and what effects it might have on the female physiognomy. Over the past month, you've shown symptoms of chronic fatigue."

El would have liked to dispute Lavinia's observations, but in all fairness she couldn't. It was one reason she hadn't tried to accompany the men on the trip to England. "I've attributed it to a combination of the back-to-back trips at the beginning of the year and an unusually heavy teaching load," she said.

"A logical conclusion," Lavinia agreed, "but it does no harm to confirm no other factor is involved."

"Do you want a sample of my blood?" El asked.

"No, for this, the Meropian equipment in Milly's lab will be more helpful."

El was familiar with the instrument Lavinia used. It was the Meropian equivalent to ultrasound. Meropians made diagnoses based on harmonics. The non-invasive procedure was Neal's favorite.

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

For the remainder of the day, Peter and Neal pursued a systematic search for additional sources of algolnium energy. Neal's firefly glow disappeared once he was several yards away from the barrow. Nowhere was the radiation as strong as at West Kennet. When they returned to the inn, Peter dashed upstairs to his room to call El, hoping to catch her during her lunch break. He had no discoveries to report and only an apology to make.

"I'll miss Valentine's Day and likely your birthday too," he told her remorsefully over the com-link.

"It's my fault for having a birthday only two days after Valentine's Day."

"I promise to make it up to you," he promised.

She smiled and blew him a kiss. "You already gave me a present."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

She patted her stomach, biting her lip even as her smile widened. "I'm pregnant."

He stared at her speechless while a flood of emotions raced through him. _We're going to have a baby!_

"I believe it happened on New Year's Eve in Cairo," she said, grinning impishly. "The timing's right and what more romantic spot could there be than that fabulous hotel in Cairo? I was going to wait to tell you till you got home, but I couldn't hold off!"

"I'm glad you didn't," he said. "This present is just as much for me. I'm going to be a father!"

"Lavinia realized it first. Apparently, Neal's not the only one she's been keeping a close eye on. I had no idea she could be such a mother hen."

Warning signals immediately beeped on his internal radar. "Are there any concerns?"

"A few," she admitted. "I'm the first human female who's been injected with algolnium. There shouldn't be any repercussions but she wants to monitor me for any issues. The only thing I've noticed so far is that I tire more easily than I used to."

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

El's news made Neal even more anxious to seal the wormhole. As if they needed yet another reason to safeguard Earth, it was now essential for Baby Gilman. But as the weekend approached, they still had no idea where the cult was meeting.

Henry called them after his initiation ceremony. He was now a member of the Starry Wisdom cult. The ceremony had changed since the event Neal and Peter witnessed. There was no bloodletting. Henry wasn't required to sign a book. Of course, he wouldn't have been able to sign the _Book of Azathoth_. That tome was now safeguarded in the vault of the Miskatonic Library.

Henry, along with his fellow cult members, was told to report to Trafalgar Square on Saturday afternoon where a bus would meet them. Their destination was not divulged.

Sara called daily with bulletins, but it was only on Wednesday morning that she had anything positive to report. Neal and Peter were exploring the chalk mound known as Silbury Hill when her call came through.

"I rummaged through Nigel's office while he was away at a meeting," she said breathlessly over the link. Neal recognized the ceramic tile wall behind her as the loo she'd appropriated for clandestine bulletins. "He's made a reservation for a rental car. He'll pick the car up on Saturday morning at Gatwick Airport and return it the next day."

"That tallies with what Henry found out about Raquel's schedule," Peter said. "She's booked a flight due to arrive on Saturday morning."

"This could also be the reason why he's shipping the team off to Edinburgh," she added glumly. "We're supposed to leave tomorrow. I bet he's ordered the trip as a way to get rid of us."

"Is Nigel going with you?" Neal asked.

"Yes, but he could easily take an early morning flight from Edinburgh and be here to greet Raquel with open slimy arms. I'm thinking of coming down with a stomach virus tonight so I won't be able to go."

"I appreciate the thought, but you better not," Peter warned. "You don't want to do anything to alert them that we're onto their plans."

"Doomed to play the decoy," Sara said with a sigh but didn't argue. Neal sided with Peter, and not only for the reason he mentioned. Sara needed to be far away from any cult gathering. No one had heard anything about Chad's location, but he could be coming too, and surely Nigel and Raquel knew about Sara's previous experience with the cult.

Henry's wiretapping expertise came through on Friday morning when he intercepted an early morning call between Nigel and Raquel. "I've got a location for you," Henry said triumphantly. "And it's not far from where you are. Lowdon Castle. Have you heard of it?"

Neal looked to Peter who nodded. "The ruins are about an hour south of here. Did you get any other details?"

"Nah. Raquel boasted that it was the start of a new era, but Nigel cautioned her that until the zoogs were established they shouldn't get complacent. No word about where they were taking the varmints."

Neal hoped that it never reached that stage. That wormhole could not be allowed to open.

* * *

_Notes: Neal's feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Next week, he'll find out if he's up to the challenge._

_I enjoyed hearing from a reader who noticed the similarity between Mozzie's com-link and the Farnsworth Communications Device used on Warehouse 13. The com-link isn't the only Easter egg in Arkham Files to Warehouse 13. I chose two members of the Warehouse 13 cast to play Arkham Files characters. Saul Rubinek (Artie) is Cyrus Dexter, and Lavinia is played by CCH Pounder (Mrs. Frederic)._

_If you've read Silent Planet, you know that New York Elizabeth had an ulterior motive when she suggested that her Arkham character should become pregnant. Will New York Peter's reaction be similar to Arkham Peter's? You'll find out in my next story, Progress of Love.  
_

_Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation: _ [ _pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com_ ](http://www.pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com)   
_Visuals and Music: The Standing Stones board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website:_ [ _pinterest.com/caffreycon_ ](https://www.pinterest.com/caffreycon/) _  
_ _Twitter:_ [ _@silbrith_ ](https://twitter.com/silbrith)


	3. Lowdon Castle

**Wiltshire, England. Friday, February 13, 1976.**

Peter's breath came out in small white puffs as he gazed at the empty shell of the castle, a ghostly silhouette outlined by the frosty twilight sky. Built in the fourteenth century, the edifice had been gutted during the English Civil War. The ruins surrounded a central grassy courtyard and were four-stories tall in places. Set in a rural area of Wiltshire, the castle's isolated position may have been the factor attracting the cult's attention.

After debating the foolhardiness of the scheme, he and Neal had decided to attempt an evening surveillance of the location where the cult would reportedly gather on the following night. Neal made the winning argument when he pointed out that he'd be able to detect the energy emanating from a permanent wormhole. If he did, just like in Marrakesh, he would probably be able to seal the fissure, thus putting a stop to the zoog invasion before it had a chance to start.

Peter paused as they approached the ruins. "Do you sense anything?" he asked, turning to look at Neal.

Neal shook his head, looking disappointed. "They must intend to open a temporary portal with a crystal." He pointed to a modern staircase that had been built along an exterior wall. "Let's check out the view from the top."

The steps led to a parapet some fifty or so feet off the ground. Neal began scanning the sky.

"What are you looking for?" Peter asked.

"Nightgaunts, what else? It's Friday the 13th. Last time we saw a nightgaunt was around Halloween when we sealed the Arkham wormhole. We still don't know what their connection is to crystals and wormholes, but given what's supposed to happen, I wouldn't be surprised to see one show up."

Peter began searching for the rubbery-skinned creatures as well. Nightgaunts had almost disappeared from his radar. The bat-winged creatures vaguely resembled dragons. The ones they'd encountered were roughly ten feet long—not the sort of creature you'd want to meet in a deserted castle. "The date may be why the cult decided to meet tomorrow night."

Neal raised a brow. "They're so superstitious that they decided to ruin Valentine's Day instead? In that case, they should go ahead and abort the entire project. I have Henry's lucky dragon. Those cultists are doomed before they even start."

"I like your attitude," Peter said, relieved that Neal wasn't feeling overwhelmed by the task confronting him.

He gave a brief chuckle. "Maybe Henry's cockiness is infectious. Let's take a closer look at the castle."

Theirs was the only car parked in the vicinity. It should be safe enough. Peter ignored the prickling on the back of his neck. Who wouldn't think it was a little creepy to prowl around a ruin at night? But realistically they were probably only being watched by owls and the occasional fox.

If they couldn't seal the wormhole before the invasion, they were screwed. Neal had no special powers against zoogs, and his ability to close a transient wormhole was questionable. Milly asserted he could draw on the algolnium energy present within the vortex to close it, but the theory had never been tested.

Zoogs could be killed by gunfire, and Peter was armed. Henry could be counted on to have at least one firearm . . . unless cult members had confiscated it. On that gloomy note, Peter stopped torturing himself with what might happen tomorrow and plunged into the deepening darkness after Neal.

Together they clambered through the ruined walls of the castle, Peter used a flashlight. With his enhanced vision, Neal didn't need supplemental lighting. They hoped he'd be able to detect the telltale shimmer indicative of a wormhole, but the search was fruitless. There were no crypts or underground chambers concealing a portal. The castle was built in a hexagonal configuration with plenty of niches to hide among the masonry. But what was an advantage to them could also be a gift for their enemy.

Before heading back to their hotel, Peter called Fei Hong. In the event they wound up with a disaster on their hands, she should be ready to call the police. But she'd only implement the plan as a last resort. They were hoping to avoid involving the authorities in the cult's operations. How to explain wormholes, an alien invasion, and zoogs to the constabulary was not something Peter wanted to tackle. The probable trashing of his and Neal's reputations they could live with, but if officials learned of Neal's alien nature, he might be incarcerated for the rest of his life.

Neal was unusually reticent on the ride back to town. Was he worried about the same thing or was he more concerned about the responsibility of sealing off the wormhole? Neither one of them would get much sleep. The only consolation was that Peter would be able to talk with El.

Upon their arrival at the hotel, they headed to their rooms to change before going out to dinner. Peter unlocked the door, his thoughts already on the upcoming conversation with El. The room was dark. As he turned to switch on the light, he was grappled from behind. He flailed out, but he'd been caught flatfooted. A sharp pain erupted in the back of his head, making him stagger. He sank to his knees before everything went black.

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Neal came to, his senses reeling. A sharp slap to his face combined with the pungency of smelling salts made his eyes pop open.

"It's about time you woke up," the stranger said. Mid-thirties, dark hair, with the educated accent Neal had heard spoken at Oxford University. The note of authority in his voice made Neal suspect the man was Nigel. He was wearing a black robe. Embroidered in yellow along the bottom was a line of Elnath script in praise of Azathoth and his lieutenant Nyarlathotep. But even more terrifying was the aura of grey smoke that surrounded him. Neal had seen that effect before but not in this world. On the planet Tirelia, Nyarlathotep's monks had similar auras. Just what was Nigel's connection to the Ymar? And what was his true appearance?

They were in a cargo van. There was no sign of Peter. The last thing Neal remembered was being attacked when he entered his hotel room. His head was stuffed with cotton wool. He'd undoubtedly been drugged. His arms were now lashed behind his back, but his legs were unbound.

"Our Lord Azathoth will be pleased to have you finally enter his domain," the cultist said. "So thoughtful of you to make it easy for him."

"Who are you?"

The man hesitated then a smile traced his lips. "Yes, it's time we meet properly. My name is Nigel Griffin. I am Azathoth's emissary. If you're smart you'll go ahead and join us. It will save you so much unnecessary suffering."

The door opened and Raquel stepped into the van. She wore an identical robe and like Nigel was surrounded in a smoky aura. Neal had seen her several times before and never noticed the effect. Was it simply that now his senses were enhanced or was she capable of masking it? She strode over to Neal and stroked his cheek. "I look forward to renewing our acquaintance once you're one of us."

She turned to Nigel. "The ceremony's ready to begin. We should move into position."

The fragrance of Raquel's perfume nauseated him. It was the same as the priestess of Isis had worn. Did that mean Raquel had some connection to Yidhra? The only reference Neal had found to her was in ancient Egypt where Yidhra had been associated with Isis. Neal struggled to recall relevant passages in the _Necronomicon_ , hoping to dispel the fog still clouding his mind.

Two men carrying handguns jumped into the van. Neal assumed them to be cult members. They hoisted him upright.

"It's time for you to meet your lord," Nigel said. The ends of his mouth quirked upward. "Soon you'll be wrapped in his embrace."

Neal didn't make any outward protest, marshaling his reserve. If he appeared docile, he might not be watched as carefully. His amulet was a reassuring weight on his chest. Milly told him to link his energy with the celaenite crystal at the heart of the amulet. He'd memorized every millimeter of its surface and focused on forming the image in his mind. As he got out of the van, he stumbled but was quickly jerked upright. The grip on his biceps tightened painfully.

It was night but the castle was illuminated by flaming torches carried by the cultists. Neal was led to the courtyard of Lowdon Castle. A circle of cult members in black robes and hoods lined the perimeter. Peter was being held by two guards on the opposite side of the circle. There were bruises on Peter's face. His beard stubble indicated a day had passed. They were still in their clothes they'd worn the previous day. Were they supposed to be Valentine's Day presents for Azathoth?

A couple of cult members beat small drums suspended from straps around their necks as the circle murmured a chant to Azathoth. A portable table had been erected on one side of the courtyard. Neal swallowed hard when Nigel placed a ruby crystal on its surface. The wormhole could open at any moment. With Milly, he'd only discussed closing wormholes that already existed. Could he possibly prevent it from opening?

Raquel took her place beside Nigel as the chanting grew louder. Nigel held both hands over the crystal, a look of intense concentration on his face.

The heavyset guard gripping Neal prodded him to stand a few yards behind Nigel. Inadvertently, he may have helped Neal. The crystal was now in plain view.

Neal focused his thoughts inward. In his mind, he pictured the celaenite crystal at the heart of the amulet. Slowly the crystal grew larger till he appeared to be within its blinding brilliance. _Channel the energy_ , Milly had said. _Feel it flow through your veins and out through your fingers._

A large fissure burst open in front of Nigel and Raquel. It looked like a tear in the night sky. Neal could see the altar of the monastery at Leng through the swirling gases. A figure masked in a yellow hood stood by the altar. He appeared to be the same priest Neal had seen when he was transported to Leng last fall. The yellow-hooded priest was reportedly Azathoth's lieutenant, Nyarlathotep. Neal's chest began to burn over his heart where the priest had pressed his gloved hand into his flesh, his words echoing once more in Neal's head. _You will return when I call_.

The priest picked up an ebony flute. The eerie piping mingled with the chants of the cultists, canceling conscious thought. The priest knew he was there. He was calling to him.

Sweat broke out on Neal's forehead despite the cold. A large container and five saplings in pots were next to the altar. Pink worm-like tentacles protruding through a latticework opening in the lid of the container. The zoogs were ready for delivery.

 _Channel the energy. Do it now!_ Milly's voice reverberated in his head, drowning out the pipe.

Neal refocused his will on the wormhole. The air started to shimmer.

The smell of burning hemp startled him. His wrists felt like they were on fire as the ropes binding his wrists began to sizzle. He wrenched off the ropes as the guard behind him cursed, letting out a howl of pain.

 _Ignore him._ _Focus on the wormhole._

With a loud pop of gunfire, Neal was hurled forward. He landed in a heap in the center of the circle of chanters. Crippling pain ripped through his left arm.

Neal fought to reach out with his right arm. His hand shook from the exertion. He wouldn't be able to maintain it for long.

_Close, damn you_. A stream of shimmering energy sprayed the fissure.

More shots. The clamor of voices as Nigel and Raquel jumped into the rift.

The pain in his arm was unbearable. Sweat stung his eyes. Neal shot out his right arm once more and clenched his fist. _Close!_

He sank back to the ground as the fissure snapped shut. It was done. He closed his eyes and curled around his injured arm, drifting away . . .

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

For a long time, there were only fragments. He remembered Henry and Peter's anxious faces. Neal tried to reassure them he was okay but nothing came out but a moan.

Then the blackness became interspersed with white. He was jolted and tossed before the fire in his arm once again engulfed him.

When he next awoke, the pain was gone. He felt numb inside, but he was warm. There were soft beeps in the background. The murmur of voices. He opened his eyes to see he was in a hospital bed. Peter and Henry were sitting in chairs. Their faces were drawn, the stubble on their faces longer.

"Hey," he said or attempted to. His throat was so dry, nothing much came out. It apparently was enough though as they both jerked their heads around. 

"You're awake!" Peter said, his face relaxing into a smile. "How do you feel?"

"I can't feel anything," Neal croaked. "Water?"

Henry reached for a hospital mug with a straw and held it for him while he took a slurp. "That's 'cause of all the good drugs they've got you on, kiddo. Enjoy them while they last."

"Did I close the wormhole?"

"And then some," Peter assured him. "You put on a sound and light show no one expected. That aura you had in the barrow was a thousand times more brilliant. You looked like you'd turned into viridian fire."

Neal nodded absently. His thoughts were muzzy. He recalled the gunshot and his eyes drifted down to the sling. He couldn't feel his left arm. There was an IV tube sprouting from his right wrist.

Peter closed his hand over his fingers when they reached for the tube. "Does it bother you? I'll call for an orderly to adjust it."

He shook his head. "Not really. How bad's the injury?"

"You won't be swimming for a while," Henry said. There was a joking smile on his face but his eyes were serious.

"You better give me the details," Neal said.

Peter sat down next to him on the bed. "You were shot at point-blank range. The bullet entered your upper arm and lodged in the bone. It's been removed but the surrounding tissues will need time to heal." Neal relaxed back into the pillows. He'd feel worse about it but he was too doped up to care about much of anything. His eyes closed.

"You need to sleep," Henry said softly. "We're not going anywhere. We'll talk more later."

His eyes popped open. "The crystal from the cave! Is it safe?"

"It's fine," Peter assured him. "Fei has custody of it for the moment. As for the crystal used to open the wormhole, it was reduced to a blackened rock. I retrieved it for chemical analysis."

Peter and Henry gradually filled in the gaps in his memory. When El didn't receive her expected evening call, she contacted the hotel. A bellman dispatched to their rooms discovered they were both missing. Fei Hong alerted the authorities. Since they were traveling under the auspices of Talmadge Holdings, she convinced the police that the kidnappings had been perpetrated by criminals seeking to extort the company.

Once Henry was en route, he called in updates whenever he had the chance. He was able to relay the time of the ceremony to Fei who somehow was able to make it appear that the kidnappers had called the office from a location near the castle. When Neal and Peter were brought into the courtyard, a police unit was only a few miles away. They were on the scene shortly after Neal closed the wormhole. He'd been taken to a hospital in Salisbury.

"Fei communicated the events to Gideon," Peter said. "This was a narrow escape. Without the assistance provided by Henry and Fei, our situation would have been much more dire. Henry whipped out his gun as soon as you were shot and ordered the cult members to raise their arms."

"They were so dumbfounded at the appearance of the rift, they didn't put up much of a struggle," Henry said. "I couldn't make out any details inside the opening, and I gather they couldn't either. Raquel and Nigel appeared to jump into a dark cavernous hole and disappear."

"Henry was able to take advantage of the confusion and untie me," Peter added. "The guards were the only ones who had any fight left in them but with their leaders gone their hearts weren't in it."

"Peter described to me the way you closed the wormhole," Henry added.

"What do you mean?" Neal asked. He'd been standing right there. Hadn't Henry seen him?

Henry hesitated for a moment. "A few seconds after you were shot, you turned invisible." He shrugged. "Guess the algolnium in me isn't strong enough yet. Your disappearance was another reason the cultists didn't present a problem. They were in a panic they'd vanish as well."

Neal looked at Peter. "Is that what you saw?"

He shook his head. "You were always visible to me, but I gotta say, you were very impressive. You turned into a glowing viridian entity. I could make out the outline of your body and your eyes, but not much else."

Neal grimaced. "Thank you for not calling me a firefly. Did you see the priest inside the wormhole?"

Peter nodded. "As well as the altar and the containers. Azathoth must know by now what happened."

"You remember the monks we saw in Tirelia?" Neal asked. "The ones with auras surrounding them?"

"Yeah," Peter confirmed, looking uneasy. "Did you see them again?"

"Perhaps. Nigel and Raquel have the same kind of aura."

"It's a good thing they're so low on crystals," Henry said. "I don't hanker on running into them again."

Neal felt the same way, but something told him their paths would cross once more.

That evening he had another visitor—Sara. She arrived with a magnificent Valentine's flower arrangement of red roses.

"I'm the one who should give you flowers," Neal protested.

She leaned down to kiss him. "If you insist on celebrating Valentine's Day by being captured by cultists and getting shot, you'll have to suffer the consequences." She turned to Peter and Henry. "Is he behaving himself?"

"So far he doesn't have much choice," Henry said. "And we're keeping a round-the-clock watch to make sure he doesn't try to pull anything."

Neal smiled, feeling far too content to dispute the point. Nigel and Raquel were gone. The wormhole was closed. There was no zoog invasion to worry about and all his friends were unharmed. He wanted to savor the moment.

"The evening edition of the newspapers will carry a report about how a cult kidnapped two Americans," Sara said. "Fei is working to ensure that only limited information is released. The police believe that the cult was holding you for ransom."

"What's their take on Nigel and Raquel?" Peter asked.

"Cult members confirmed that Nigel was their leader. As for Raquel, none of the cult members appear to know anything about her. There's a paper trail of her travel plans which may eventually link her to the cult."

"Fei came by earlier in the day," Henry said. "She announced that Talmadge Holdings will move to Arkham. Given the events over the past week, Gideon's decided we need closer coordination."

"Fei has directed Henry to be in charge of security for the new premises," Neal added. "He's also spearheading the search for suitable quarters."

Henry had told him he enjoyed working with Fei. They'd discovered a shared fondness for beer and had already made plans to go on a pub crawl before Henry returned to the States. Neal had been delighted to hear about the proposed relocation. It would give Henry yet another reason to stay in Arkham rather than take on jobs with his old outfit.

"Fei's not the only one moving to Arkham," Sara said. "I am too."

"You are?" Dumb question, but his heart was thumping so loudly he worried he'd misunderstood.

"Absolutely," she declared. "You know I'm here on a temporary basis."

"But I thought you'd want to extend it. Having international assignments was your dream job." He felt obliged to point it out even as he kicked himself mentally for doing so. Discouraging the move was the last thing he wanted to do.

She ruffled his hair gently. "And who says I won't be doing that with you? Not to mention the intergalactic options. I'll stay in England to help finish the exposé. Your abduction served as the means of unmasking the conspirators. All that's left on the assignment are a few loose ends to tie up. I hope to return to Arkham in a couple of weeks."

After a few moments, Peter and Henry ducked out to give them some time alone. "This isn't the way I'd planned to spend Valentine's Day," Neal said. "Yet another holiday we'll need a raincheck for."

She smiled. "Valentine's Day in March sounds good to me too."

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

Despite Neal's attempts to persuade the doctors otherwise, it was two days before he was released from the hospital. Peter brought Neal's medical charts home with them for El to review.

When she saw them, she repeated the same warning that the doctors in England had issued. The gunshot had entered at an angle just below the shoulder, exacerbating the seriousness of the injury. His radial nerve had been lacerated and there'd been extensive damage to the ligaments. A splint and arm sling would be necessary for a minimum of six weeks with the likely prospect of surgery in his future. So far, feeling hadn't returned to his fingers, but Neal refused to dwell on the degree of disability he'd be forced to accept.

He resumed teaching after a couple of additional days of rest. It helped distract him while he healed and kept the others from hovering about. Henry insisted on Neal accompanying him to the coffeehouse on Saturday night, but Neal declined his attempts to get him to sing. If Neal wasn't able to play the guitar, he wasn't interested in performing. His disability didn't affect his teaching or being able to paint. And it shouldn't have much of an impact on SCAGR missions. But trying to convince the others of that would be a challenge.

It seemed that everyone in SCAGR had tasks they were working on except him. Lavinia was convinced that Azathoth's next attack would occur in the past. She disclosed she'd been preparing for this eventuality for decades. When she arrived on Earth, she busied herself with converting Earth's history into a massive Meropian database. She used to evaluate the present historical record. If Azathoth tried to change the timeline, it would show up as an anomaly.

Mozzie meanwhile was working feverishly with Milly to make time travel possible. With the latest crystal they'd acquired in the barrow, Milly believed it was achievable.

Thanks to Henry, the team had acquired samples of cologne from Nigel's flat. The analysis revealed it to be similar in composition to Raquel's perfume. Cyrus was convinced there were alien botanicals in the formula but hadn't been able to identify any sinister effect.

As for Peter, he was continuing to search for additional ancient sites that might contain evidence of the early alien civilizations.

With no specific task assigned for himself, Neal created a personal challenge. Whenever he had free time, he practiced channeling his energy, using the cheval mirror by his bed to check his progress. It was not something he'd told anyone about. They'd probably object that he wasn't ready or that he wasn't strong enough. But he was convinced that before long he'd need to use the skill again.

His initial attempts to make himself invisible were dismal failures that only resulted in him blacking out. But slowly he began to improve. He could hold the effect for only a few seconds and was left exhausted, but it was a start.

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

El crossed her arms on her desk, studying her antsy patient. "It hasn't been two weeks since the injury. It's far too early to think of removing the splint."

"But I can tell my arm's stronger," Neal protested. He flexed his fingers. "So are my fingers."

"The x-rays should be ready in a few more minutes," she said, not caring to debate the issue with him. Neal had shown up at her office on Friday afternoon after his classes were over. She suspected he was simply being tormented by an itchy splint, but to placate him, she had her colleague Vijay escort him to the lab for x-rays.

"Any other symptoms I should know about besides a remarkable ability to heal?" she asked, arching a brow.

"My arm feels hot," he said. "It doesn't hurt, but sometimes I feel like the cast will simply melt off."

The symptom was puzzling. She'd already checked that he wasn't running a fever. "Have you been keeping it in the sling?"

"Most of the time."

"Neal, _most_ of the time isn't good enough. Your arm may feel fine, but I'm willing to bet if we take the splint off, you'll be singing another tune."

A light tap on the door was followed by Vijay poking his head in. "I have the x-rays ready. The supervising radiologist was curious to know when the injury occurred."

Neal's files were all kept classified because of his hybrid nature. Out of an abundance of caution, El had only told Vijay that Neal had sustained the injury in England. Fortunately, Neal hadn't visited the medical center recently, so no one knew how long the splint had been on.

Vijay placed the folder of x-ray images on her desk. "The reason he asked is because he could see no trace of an injury."

Neal shrugged, looking at her hopefully. "I guess I'm a quick healer."

El waited till Vijay left before she scanned the films. She'd seen the x-rays from England. It wasn't humanly possible to heal so quickly. Moreover, residual bone scarring was inevitable.

"What's the verdict?" Neal asked anxiously.

El didn't reply as she rechecked the films. Once more he was making a shambles of conventional wisdom. Despite her doubts, the radiologist had been right in his assessment. "Algolnium may be the new wonder drug," she said with a smile. "Your bones have completely healed with no evidence of scarring. I'll remove the splint and we'll take it from there."

Neal sighed with relief when she removed the splint and bandages. Immediately he began rotating his shoulder.

_Relief_ wasn't the term she'd use for herself. There was no scar at all. It was as if the wound had never been present. She put him through a series of tests, and he sailed through them all with flying colors.

"I'm at a loss to explain it," she admitted. "Did you travel through a wormhole since returning to Arkham?"

"No," he said with a laugh and then hesitated, his face growing serious.

"Neal, what happened?"

"I've been practicing channeling my energy. Could that be the cause?"

**WCWCWCWCWCWCWC**

"Milly, did I heal myself?" 

Neal had headed to Mozzie's lab after leaving El's office. Mozzie was teaching a seminar. It was just Neal and the armillary sphere.

"More information is needed," she said. "Describe the nature of the experiment."

"I was attempting to channel energy. I monitored the results in the mirror to determine if my body dissolved into a viridian-colored gas."

"How long were you able to maintain the effect?"

"Only a few seconds, I think. After that, I'd black out."

"Celaenians were able to convert their corporeal selves into pure energy. They eventually decided they didn't need their physical bodies. From what you describe, you've inherited some of that ability."

"Is it harmful?"

"I do not know. Since your nature is unique to me, there are no references for me to access."

"Were Celaenians invisible to non-algolnium-based life forms when they converted themselves to energy?"

"That is correct."

"When they first discovered the ability, for how long could they maintain the state?"

"As long as they wished, but that will most likely not be true of you. Your physiognomy is radically different."

"In what way?" he persisted.

"I am not permitted to say."

"Not even a hint?"

She remained stubbornly silent, leaving Neal alone with his thoughts. El would undoubtedly inform the others. Would his shoulder have healed on its own if he hadn't experimented? Somehow shooting himself to test the theory didn't sound like an option that would meet with SCAGR approval.

* * *

_Notes: Neal's hunch that he should work on his newly acquired powers is correct. He'll need those skills for the next mission, Queen's Gambit, when the team travels back in time to Elizabethan England. I'll post that story in a couple of months._

_Thanks for reading! I'll hope you'll join me next week for a new story. I'll begin posting Progress of Love (Caffrey Conversation series) on June 24. Complications abound when Alex Hunter pays Neal a visit. You can find the titles and estimated dates for upcoming stories in all my series on our blog. Penna has written the latest blog post. It's a thought-provoking update about her upcoming novel. The title is "[Novel progress: police of the future](https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/2020/06/novel-progress-police-of-future.html)." _

_Till next time!_

_Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation: [pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com](http://www.pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com)_   
_Visuals and Music: The Standing Stones board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website:[pinterest.com/caffreycon](https://www.pinterest.com/caffreycon/)_   
_Twitter:[@silbrith](https://twitter.com/silbrith)_


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